


Grapefruit Moon

by pommedeplume



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 1970s, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - 1970s, Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Crushes, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Inspired by Music, M/M, POV Remus Lupin, Period-Typical Homophobia, Piano, Pining, Tom Waits, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Walk Into A Bar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 05:00:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5116496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pommedeplume/pseuds/pommedeplume
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"Grapefruit moon, one star shining, shining down on me.</i><br/><i>Heard that tune, and now I'm pining, honey, can't you see?</i><br/><i>'Cause every time I hear that melody, well, something breaks inside,</i><br/><i>And the grapefruit moon, one star shining, can't turn back the tide."</i> - Tom Waits, "Grapefruit Moon"</p><p>(1973)<br/>New York City. Remus Lupin has a crush on a piano player, but he doesn't even know his name.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grapefruit Moon

Remus tossed the cigarette butt to the ground and stomped it out with a twist of his ankle. He sighed, frustrated with himself. He told himself he wasn't going to do this. He looked at the entrance to the night club, 'Grapefruit Moon'. He could hear the music, a faint muffle. He could just go in there for a half an hour. It wouldn't be a big deal.

He straightened the lapels of his brown leisure suit and walked towards the entrance, limping slightly. His doctor thought he needed to start using a cane but Remus thought he could manage the pain for the time being. It had been two years since the car wreck and he was doing fine so far, in his own opinion at least.

Remus reluctantly went inside the club, finding himself besieged by the smell of smoke, loud voices in conversation and a woman's soulful voice, backed by piano, drums and saxophone. He didn't know the song. He didn't need to. He wasn't here for the song.

Remus went over to the bartender and ordered a whiskey on the rocks. He then took his drink and sat at a small, round table in the center of the room, facing the stage. The couple at the table next to him were arguing about President Nixon and whether he should resign over Watergate, but everyone was, weren't they?

The singer was young, black and pretty. She had a friendly smile and the crowd loved her. But Remus was looking behind her, at the piano player.

Remus didn't know his name but he knew the sound of his playing, the way his long, thin fingers moved across the keys, with graceful precision. He knew his long, black hair and his sharp features. He was always smiling and there were stars painted onto his black piano. After their performance ended he always went and talked to the crowd, but Remus never approached him, out of fear. But he had heard him speak. He was English and hearing his voice was like being bathed in milk and honey.

Remus wondered why he tormented himself like this. He didn't even _know_ this man, though he desperately wanted to. If only he could just say hello and introduce himself. But that was a _terrible_ idea. What if he wasn't gay and took offense and hit Remus? Getting your ass kicked by your crush was a terrible way to end your night, even by Remus's standards.

The music ended, the audience applauded and the band left the stage. They all went backstage except for the piano player, who went over to the bar, sat down and ordered a water. He _always_ ordered a water. The couple next to him were now arguing about Vietnam. Remus flinched. He'd had enough of their bickering and he'd finished his whiskey. It was time for him to either leave the club or exercise some courage and introduce himself.

Remus tried his best to smooth his mustache out then walked over to the bar. A girl who didn't even look old enough to be in this club was trying to chat the piano player up and he looked uncomfortable. Thankfully, she went away after Remus sat down, two barstools down from the piano player.

Remus had never been this close to the man. He was wearing a black vest over a nice white dress shirt and denim bell bottoms. He was hip, there was no doubt about that. Suddenly, he glanced at Remus and flashed a hint of a smile at him before looking away. Remus could've died.

The bartender asked Remus if he wanted another whiskey but he declined, instead asking for a water. If the piano player didn't drink maybe he wouldn't approve of someone like Remus drinking so much. He didn't want to seem like some sort of drunk, even if he had suffered a few nights worth forgetting, including the unfortunate night where he injured his leg.

Remus glanced over at the piano player. The piano player was glancing at him again, but quickly looked away. Probably, a coincidence, Remus reasoned. But then again, maybe he _should_ say something. But what on Earth could he say? He could tell him he liked the way he played the piano. He could say ' _good job, pal_ ', and slap him on the arm like any straight man might.

But this guy wasn't straight was he? Every fibre of Remus's being said he wasn't and Remus was rarely wrong about this sort of thing. Well… maybe once. No, twice but they ended up hooking up anyway, so it worked out all right.

Remus searched himself for courage but found himself lacking. Perhaps, if he were to act he could have a great night. But he might, on the other hand, have a bad night. Right now he was having an OK night and OK was always better than bad.

Remus paid his tab then got up from the bar and left the night club. It looked like it might rain and Remus wished he'd brought an umbrella. He stood beneath the awning, feeling apprehensive. Just then the door opened behind him and a pleasant, English voice said, "Do you need help?"

Remus turned around, shocked.

"I… umm… I'm fine, I just… Might rain, I think," Remus stammered, internally cursing himself.

The piano player stepped out from beneath the awning and looked up at the night sky.

"I can see the moon. It's full, you know. I think the clouds are moving away. It's fine, really," the piano player said.

"Are you sure?" Remus asked.

"Yeah."

The piano player smiled at Remus as he departed the awning's protection.

"So you like jazz?" the piano player asked, hands in his jeans pockets.

"Yeah. I mean, I don't love it but I do like it," Remus answered.

The piano player looked surprised at that.

"Really? I see you here all the time. You don't talk to the other patrons, you don't drink much. You just show up to watch us play, then you leave. I'd say that shows a certain level of bloody interest," the piano player said, then chuckled.

He was so close to the truth, but _oh god_ , he had noticed Remus.

"Oh, well, I guess you've caught me. Secret jazz lover, I suppose," Remus replied, making a goofy grin.

The piano player smiled, then gave Remus a considering look. He had grey eyes unlike any Remus had ever seen. He was unfairly perfect.

"You strike me as a bloke who favours secrets. What else are you hiding?" the piano player said, grinning and winking.

Fuck, he knows I'm gay, Remus thought. But did that mean _he_ was gay too? Only one way to find out.

"And what about you?" Remus asked.

The piano player removed his hands from his pockets and made a dramatic gesture, opening his arms wide.

"I'm an open book, once you get to know me," the piano player said, sliding his hands back into his pockets.

"Do people ever get to know you?" Remus asked.

The piano player made a sly smile and replied, "If they get up the courage to ask for my name and number."

Remus hesitated. Was this a mistake? Was he just seeing what he wanted to see? Based on how the piano player was looking at him, expectantly, he thought not, on both accounts.

"I'm calling your bluff," Remus said, sliding his hands in his pockets.

The piano player snickered then pulled a hand out of pocket, and placed a business card into Remus's open hand.

"I'm Sirius Black, and yes that is my Christian name," the piano player said.

"Like the star?" Remus asked.

"The brightest," Sirius Black replied.

The brightest, indeed, Remus thought.

"My number is on the back of the card. Don't call the number on the front. That's just for work. I always write my personal number on the back of a card, just in case," Sirius said.

"Just in case of what?" Remus asked, putting the card in his pocket.

"Just in case I meet a handsome bloke," Sirius said, then laughed.

Remus felt himself flush with excitement and he smiled, despite himself.

"Well, I'll definitely give you a call. Wouldn't want to let your good luck go to waste," Remus said.

"Cheers. Well, I'm afraid I must be heading home," Sirius said and stepped to the curb to hail a taxi.

"Me too," Remus said.

"Want to a share a cab?" Sirius asked.

"Oh, no thank you. I live nearby. I'll walk," Remus said, and began to head down the sidewalk.

He looked up at the moon, and smiled. He wondered where Sirius, the dog star, was tonight. The clouds had indeed moved away, and the future, for the moment, looked quite bright.

**Author's Note:**

> Like what you read? Feel free to leave a kudos and comments are always appreciated. Consider subscribing to me or following [my blog on tumblr](http://pommedeplume.tumblr.com).


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